The Beat of Our Decay
by Demonic Device
Summary: After being separated from Dante during a raid he can hardly recall, Nero finds himself searching for him in a world that has undergone drastic changes. Forced to scavenge in order to survive, Nero comes to realize that the world isn't the only thing that has changed. Will Dante recognize him? Or, more importantly, will he still accept him?


**Author's Notes**: Misc. stuff after the story.

**Wa****rning(s)**: For the entire story: Language, Homosexual Pairing, Possible Violence, OoC, AU

**Disclaimer**: No, I do not own, in any shape or form, the characters, places, events, ideas, etc., portrayed in the games, anime, novels, manga, and other such things associated with Devil May Cry. Those all belong to Capcom and whoever else worked on aforementioned items, or their owners, at least.

"Overworld" is property of Machinae Supremacy. Any lyrics I used belong to them.  
Anything else is the product of my own imagination.

* * *

Nero continued to look outside, eyes darting around as he tried to peer through the smothering darkness, but the effort was all in vain. Without light, artificial or otherwise, he couldn't see beyond a few feet, his human eyesight too weak to be able to make out much, if anything at all. The lure of sleep wasn't helping much, either, his tired body all too eager to submit to unconsciousness. However, night having fallen, the temperature was quick to drop as well, and he was freezing. Shivering, the young man tightened the denim coat he wore around his lithe body, and pressed his forehead against dirty, cracked glass. He sighed and watched as condensation formed on the small window, pulling a sleeve over his left hand gingerly to wipe it away.

"Dammit, Dante," he muttered absentmindedly, wearily curling fingers into a loose fist as he pushed himself away from the window. Turning his head to the side, his gaze instead swept over the cramped quarters he was sleeping in for the night. '_Definitely an upgrade_,' he thought dryly, snorting bitterly. He would admit, however, that he had been lucky to have come across the lone, somewhat still intact passenger car. The rest of the train was nowhere to be found, but the youth didn't really care to think about what had happened to it. He would take the trashed rail car over trees and hard ground any day. Rubbing at his eyes, Nero reached for his sword, propping the heavily customized blade against the space underneath the window, within reaching range.

With the parting of his sword, the young male found himself falling into the routine that he had gotten into the habit of following every time before falling asleep. He listened intently as he went through the motions of it, and was soon stripped of the satchel he carried about him, as well as of the pistol he wore strapped to his thigh. Relieved that he wasn't hearing anything out of the ordinary, the gun was slipped inside the cloth bag; it in turn was set on the dusty floor next to the sword. He made himself comfortable on one of the lumpy leather seats, pulling the coat he had shrugged off to use as a makeshift blanket up to his chin. Trying to relax despite the occasional tremor that ran through his body, Nero closed his eyes, and black hair and mischievous blue eyes greeted him. Unbeknownst to him, a small smile began to curve lips that had become accustomed to frowning, and he followed his lover into dreams.

* * *

'_Wait up, old man!' _

_Dante stopped walking and turned, grinning as he watched Nero jogging towards him, trying to catch up. _

'_Aw, c'mon, kid, it's not even that far. Don't tell me you're tired already?' He laughed at the glare shot his way. _

'_No,' Nero growled half-heartedly, slowing down as he came up alongside the other man, trying to steady his breathing now that he had caught up. Still chuckling, Dante reached over with gloved fingers, tilting the younger male's head upward until they were looking at each other. _

'_I could always carry you there, if ya want me to,' Dante teased, delighting at the rosy blush that colored the youth's cheeks. _

'_I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself,' Nero informed him, watching as the wind haphazardly tousled the older man's hair, black strands falling in front of icy blue eyes as it died down. His fingers itched to brush them away, but Dante did that job for him, an impatient shake of his head clearing his line of sight. _

'_Then quit your complaining,' he said gently, swiping his thumbs once across warm cheeks before leaning down to kiss at pouting lips. Nero startled, and Dante pulled back with a sigh. 'No one's around," he murmured, a quick glance confirming his words to be true. Reaching up to remove the elder man's hands from his face, Nero turned to look for himself. _

_He was right. The streets were deserted. He frowned and turned back to Dante, who once more leaned down to kiss him. This time Nero allowed it, moving his hands to run fingers through the man's hair. He felt himself being pulled closer, the kiss intensifying as Dante's tongue parted his lips and darted inside._

_Suddenly, the once empty street began to flood, a wave of people noisily washing down the narrow path. Embarrassment and annoyance quickly turned to confusion and wariness as Nero noted the fear on everyone's face. 'What's going on?' He couldn't help the way his voice faltered when he looked back at Dante._

_The black-haired male's jaw was set, eyes narrowed as he looked past the crowd to see what they were fleeing from. Within a heartbeat, Nero felt his wrist being grasped tightly, and Dante was urging him to run. He managed to do so for a few seconds before something yanked him forcefully from behind, and he was separated from the older male. Dante quickly turned when he realized what had happened, and the same emotion that was on everybody's face soon spread to his._

'_Nero!'_

* * *

"Dante!"

With a little gasp that quickly became a yelp, Nero awoke, only to fall unceremoniously to the cold, dusty floor below. Groaning as he lay sprawled on his back, the young male grimaced as he closed his eyes against the darkness. _'What the hell was I dreaming about?' _he wondered, trying to think back. As images began flashing through his mind, he rolled onto his side, reaching for his satchel. Spilling its contents across the grimy floor, he snatched up a small notebook and pen, sitting up as he flipped through pages, trying to find a clean one.

Scribbling furiously as he attempted to write down as many details as he could, the youth frowned when he was finished. He wasn't happy with what he saw. He had only managed to fill half a page, and even then, the details weren't anything new. He'd already dreamt them at one time or another. Disappointed, the teen let the pen clatter to the floor. "Where the hell are you, Dante?" he whispered, gritting his teeth in frustration. _'You're the only one who can tell me who I am …' _

With a little scoff, the male shook his head. "Pathetic," he muttered. Here he was, chasing after a man he only recalled through dreams, when he had no idea who he was himself. Stifling a yawn, Nero gazed at the items littering the floor. He briefly considered leaving them there until he was ready to head out, but a year on the run told him that that was not a smart idea. With a long, suffering sigh, the teen began packing his possessions away. He would occasionally stop and stare at what he was holding, such as a beat up silver watch or switchblade knife, but it would eventually make its way into the bag, with the exception of a single bullet.

This he rolled between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled on his jacket. He almost dropped it when he heard yowling and screeching nearby. "Shit," he cursed, letting the bullet fall into the breast pocket over his heart. It gave a small clatter as it settled next to the bullet already occupying the space. "Shit, shit, shit," he repeated, checking to see if his pistol was loaded before slinging the satchel across his shoulder and grabbing at his sword.

Bursting forth from the rail car, Nero quickly aimed his weapon as he scoped the immediate vicinity. It was empty, as far as he could tell, but he couldn't rely on just his vision, even if the storm clouds from earlier had cleared, allowing moonlight to stream through. "Where are you, you son of a bitch?" he growled, jogging quickly to the border of trees surrounding what he assumed had been a train yard. He needed to find_ it_ before_ it_ managed to attract _others_.

He whirled around as a howl sounded." Just can't stay quiet, can ya?" he grinned, moving-in the direction he had heard the sound coming from. After a few minutes of pushing aside brambles and debris, the young male came across the source of noise. His grin faltered at what he saw. It was a demon, alright, but this one hadn't quite transformed all the way. Traces of its human form were still visible, especially in its face. For a moment, Nero felt an odd pang in his chest, and a tightening in his throat, but he ignored them. He couldn't afford to show pity. It was either him, or them, and he still had questions that needed answers. Silently, he raised his gun and fired, effectively silencing the beast before it could let out another call.

He stayed to make sure the carcass had dissolved before moving on. He had not heard any returning calls, but he didn't want to stay put and have to fight off the beasts in case more of the little fuckers were headed his way. Irritated at the turn of events, the brunette uttered a string of curses as he glanced around. Nothing but trees surrounded him. It was going to be a long walk.

* * *

The sun had already risen by the time Nero emerged from the forest. He blinked his eyes blearily against the bright light, the lack of a decent night's sleep finally catching up to him. When his sight returned to him, however, he perked up considerably at what lay before him: a road. A sign lay broken on one side, welcoming visitors to a place no longer legible, but the youth didn't preoccupy himself with figuring out where he was for the moment. All he cared about was the fact that he might be near _civilization_. Or, at the very least, a source of food, supplies, and weaponry. Licking his lips hungrily as his stomach growled at the prospect of a meal, no matter how meager, the male went on his way. The sign promised that the town was only a couple of miles down the road, but hopefully he could come across a store or houses on its outskirts. He would have no such luck.

* * *

**Author's Notes** (continued)**:** Okay, hi. o u o

First of all, sorry if there are any mistakes in this story. My computer/mouse is being weird, and it keeps clicking on different places, causing my text to be altered. :c

Anyways, I finally extended the beginning of The Beat of Our Decay. It was favored over the alternative (found in Overworld: The Beat of Our Decay), so yeah, I'm going to continue with this version. One thing I do want to know is if I picked a decent cutoff point. Is it alright, abrupt, whatever? Feel free to mention other things, too, if you decide to review. c:

Um, also, I'm holding a kiriban on my deviantart page (I have a link on my profile, but you can find me under DemonicDevice), and I am giving away one to two of these four things: art, writing (oneshot, most likely), a premium membership, and/or 400 points. The last two only apply if you have a deviantart account. You can find out more details by reading the journal titled Kiriban! on my profile page over there. Everyone is welcome to participate, and if you don't have an account, you can just send me a screenshot via PM over here. n u n

Sooo, hopefully y'all enjoy this story, are willing to participate in my kiriban, and so on, and so forth, lol.

Have a pleasant day! :D


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